


A Subtle Language

by Crowgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Awkward Flirting, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Nonverbal Communication, Not Beta Read, Pining, Threesome - M/M/M, Tony Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 06:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: Steve has a habit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catchclaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Chris Evans Interview Gif](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/438330) by Lili. 



Steve does this thing. Tony’s sure it’s just a nervous habit, like his own of drumming with anything handy on anything else handy or Bruce’s of folding any stray paper into origami birds or Bucky’s of sharpening his knives when he’s in public. Tony doesn’t understand that one quite so readily but he gets the idea of a nervous habit. Drumming with things is the least annoying one he’s ever had, according to Rhodey and he’s willing to believe that, even if Fury does glare at him in meetings sometime. If he wants Tony not to drum, he should make the meetings more interesting.

Anyway, the point is: he gets nervous habits. Everyone has ‘em and Steve is no exception and that’s fine. It's even kinda cute: Captain America fidgets, who knew? 

And glancing across the conference table or the breakfast table or the dinner table or the couch on movie weekends or the workshop when Steve camps out there for an afternoon and seeing Steve nibbling on his fingertip is not a problem. Not at all. 

He doesn’t bite his nails. That would almost be funny: Captain America chomping his nails down like some middle school kid. But no: he just -- nibbles. Tony can’t think of any other way to think about it. It’s not a particular finger, either, just whichever happens to be closest to his mouth; given that he tends to rest his chin on his palm a lot, it’s most often his ring finger or his thumb. Tony’s tried working out the probabilities of digit selection in his head rather than watching Steve chew gently on the tip of his thumb but it hadn’t worked.

At this point, Tony’s pretty much given up on anything working. He’s tried just about ever trick he’s ever had to distract himself and none of them hold. He had _almost_ gotten just Not Looking At Steve down until the whole Winter Soldier thing and then he just couldn't believe Steve was _there_ again and had to keep checking and Steve was still there and so was his nibbling and now so was his silent, stupidly hot shadow.

And then Bucky Barnes stopped being silent but kept being Steve's hot shadow and clearly Steve had found a few other things to nibble on and Tony doesn’t know what the fuck he’s going to do.

Thank Christ Bucky doesn’t suck on his fingertips or Tony might simply spontaneously combust in the conference room.

As it is, Clint has taken to teasing him across the room on movie weekends: theatrically sucking on his thumb like some giant deviant six-year-old. If Natasha catches him at it, she’ll cuff him but lately she’s been pretty distracted by Pepper which is great and all but sort of leaves Tony at the mercy of her _deeply_ irritating platonic life-partner.

Thor’s started doing it, too, because he noticed Clint doing it and thinks it’s funny. When he noticed, Clint had laughed so hard he damn near fell off the back of the couch where he always perches. Tony had been rooting for gravity on that one but even there he couldn’t catch a break.

And so here he is: trying desperately not to get caught by Steve’s boyfriend staring at Steve doing illegal things with his fingertips and his mouth. The fact that they're perfectly innocent -- no-one else ever even seems to _notice_ \-- somehow makes it worse. Steve’s not doing it to annoy Tony or catch his attention: he’s just thinking about something or trying not to interrupt someone or daydreaming about something and the fact that Tony knows all of this does not make it one tiny bit better.

It makes it slightly worse since the advent of Barnes because now Tony has a pretty fucking good idea of what Steve’s daydreaming about and he sympathises -- God, does he ever -- but he's never hated his ability to read faces more.

Every now and then Steve will catch his eye -- across the conference table or the breakfast table or the dinner table or the couch -- and nod to him or give a sympathetic lift of the eyebrows or -- worst of all -- smile. Steve smiling around the tip of his pinky finger had damn near left Tony catatonic at one point. Pepper had to step on his foot with her stiletto before he came ‘round.

And he isn’t even safe in his workshop because Steve has taken a liking to the couple of old couches Tony keeps in the corner and camps out there pretty regularly to read or sketch or doze and Tony’s not sure which is worse. What he _knows_ is worse is that now Barnes tags along and Barnes has a mechanical bent and Tony had been hoping he wasn’t as fucked -- ha -- as he knew he was right up until the moment of the day he looked over the carcass of the Ducati Panigale he was trying to soup up and Barnes was leaning over, trying to see what he was doing, and his dark hair slipped loose from behind his ear and fell against his cheekbone and it was all Tony could do not to reach up and put it back. 

Steve might look cute and all with the tip of his thumb stuck in the corner of his mouth while he reads, but Tony’s seen what those hands can do and he has no desire to be on _that_ end of them.

When he finally concludes that nothing _easy_ is going to work, Tony heaves a silent sigh and tries the hard stuff. He takes a seat at an angle to Steve in the meeting room instead of across from him (that’s not necessarily a great improvement since it also means he’s _closer_ to Steve _and_ Barnes, but small steps); has his breakfast brought down to the workshop or up to the lab (and incidentally starts a fascinating mold experiment); begs off dinner if he can (Bruce doesn’t let him do that more than a couple times a week); brings a tablet to movie night and does crosswords (how fast can he do the last month’s worth of puzzles from _The Times_ ).

The thing is, though, he misses the silent conversations with Steve. He hadn’t realised they did it so much until he put himself out of the way of it happening but it was like they had their own secret code and now he can’t use it any more. 

So -- and Tony would be the first to admit this isn’t terribly adult of him -- he gets a bit bitter about it and a bitter Tony is a locked-in-his-lab-at-all-hours Tony so that’s where Bucky and Steve finds him on the third day. 

‘You ever coming up for air, Stark?’

‘What?’ Tony spins around from the workbench, sending half a dozen holo-screens flying and glares. ‘What?’

‘I asked if you were planning to live the rest of your life down here or come up with the rest of us mortals,’ Bucky says cheerfully, apparently totally unfazed by the worst glower Tony can give him. Steve is behind him a step or two but hesitates by the door as Bucky comes over to the bench.

‘You’re not mortal,’ Tony says and turns back, trying to recollect the screens and remember what the fuck he had been doing. 

‘Close enough.’ 

‘Not really. Is there something you want or are you just here to disturb me?’ 

‘Bucky--’ Steve’s voice is quiet, almost pained and Tony flinches to hear it but fixes his gaze on the screen in front of his face and grits his teeth. It’s better this way or it _will_ be better this way or _some_ thing but he knows he can’t go on the way things were. 

Bucky steps in between Tony and the workbench and waves his hands in the air, sending the screens flying into blackness again.

‘The fuck, Barnes!’ Tony leans back and glares, hoping it will have more effect at close range. It doesn’t seem to. ‘I was _working_ on something?’ 

Bucky grins at him, grabs the back of the high stool, and spins him around before Tony can do anything. Tony’s left staring at Steve who is still by the door and looks ridiculously like a kid being called into the principal’s office. All he’s _not_ doing is twisting his hands together in front of him. 

Steve gives Tony a sheepish smile. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey. I’m guessing there’s something you want?’ 

‘I think it’s something you want,’ Bucky says, low and soft and right in Tony’s ear and Tony absolutely does _not_ shiver. 

‘What I wanted was to be left alone in peace to work---’

‘Mmm…’ 

Christ, is that Bucky’s _hair_ brushing his cheek? Dear God, it is and Tony squeezes his eyes shut then realises that’s a horrible tell and pops them open again. 

‘...yeah, I don’t think so,’ Bucky says and Tony feels him let go of the stool and then, before Tony can do anything, Bucky has his arms folded across the top of Tony’s shoulders, like Tony is a fucking standing desk or something. ‘Between you and this big piece of stupid--’

‘Hey,’ Steve interjects.

‘--oh, come on, babe. The two of you have managed to get yourselves in a royal mess here, haven’t you? What were you going to do if I hadn’t come back, huh? Just... lust after each other in silence forever?’

‘...what?’ Tony knows he’s been down here for awhile and sleep’s been a bit hit or miss and he’s not entirely sure when he last ate but-- ‘What?’

Bucky sighs theatrically. ‘I told you subtle wasn’t cuttin’ it.’

Steve blushes -- Steve actually _blushes_ as Tony is looking at him and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

‘See, Steve does this… this _thing…’_ Bucky leans forward so he’s speaking straight into Tony’s ear. ‘...when he likes someone. Took me long enough to figure it out, so I thought I’d let you in on it.’

Tony tries to say something but his mouth has gone stone-dry and all he can see is Steve, big, capable, take-charge Steve, standing across the room, blushing like a teenager, and staring at his feet.

‘He used to do it with pencils. Always -- suckin’ on ‘em, bitin’ the erasers. Drove me _nuts_ ‘til I figured out what he was doing.’ Bucky chuckles, a warm sound low in his throat that makes Tony’s skin prickle all over. ‘It ain’t subtle, once you think about it.’

‘But -- I --’ Tony points to Steve, then to himself, then to Steve again as Steve turns an even darker shade of red. ‘And...you--’ He jerks his thumb over his shoulder at Bucky, then stands up and turns around. ‘You -- and him -- I don’t --’ 

Bucky pushes the stool to one side. ‘I’m a little more direct.’ And before Tony can say anything, Bucky’s closed the distance between them, cupped Tony’s chin in his metal hand, and kissed him. 

It’s _sweet,_ is the thing, is the first thing Tony’s spinning mind catches on to. In whatever fantasies he might have had about this -- and he’s not admitting to any, mind you -- it had always been more like _taking,_ but this feels like...Christ, it feels like giving and asking and half a dozen other things not even Tony’s mind can catalog with Barnes’s lips on his. 

‘Hey, now…’ Steve’s voice behind him is the first thing Tony hears through the hum of blood in his hears when Barnes finally lets him go. The first thing he _feels_ is Steve’s hands on his shoulders. ‘That’s not nice.’

Bucky licks his lips and grins up over Tony’s head. ‘Felt nice to me.’

‘So you really did all this for yourself, is that what you’re telling me?’ Steve’s hands are nervous, sliding over Tony’s shoulders, down his arms, squeezing over his tricep, moving back so Steve’s thumbs nearly brush the back of his neck and Tony’s having processing problems. 

‘Well, if you wouldn’t--’

‘Wait a minute,’ Tony interrupts. ‘Wait -- _just_ a fucking minute here.’

Steve’s hands still, then drop away. ‘See, Buck, I told you--’

Bucky and Tony move at the same time to arrest Steve’s retreat and they end up in a rather awkward triangle, each with a hand on one of Steve’s arms. 

‘Uh -- I’ve stopped,’ Steve says after a moment of silence. ‘You can let go now?’

‘Oh, no.’ Tony waves a finger in his face, then in Bucky’s face, then Steve’s again. ‘Oh, no, no, no. I’m not letting go of _anyone_ until one of you tells me what the fuck is going on here.’ 

Bucky rolls his eyes and gives an impatient sigh. ‘C’mon, Stark. I thought you were smarter than this. You’re seriously tellin’ me you don’t get it?’

‘No, I mean -- I _do_ \-- I think I do -- but -- maybe I don’t?’

Bucky slaps his hand down on Steve’s shoulder. ‘My boy here has the hots for you.’ He slaps his other hand down on Tony’s shoulder. ‘You got the hots for my boy. I’m just tryin’ to make things easy.’ 

‘Oh, holy shit, Buck…’ Steve mutters, color flooding back into his face. 

‘What?’ Bucky gives them both an exasperated look. ‘I’m not tryin’ to _stop_ you, am I? I’m just… helpin’ you past the rough part.’ 

‘By...kissing me,’ Tony says, just trying to make sure he has all the facts straight here. 

Bucky grins at him. ‘I didn’t say I got nothin’ out of the deal.’ 

‘So -- I -- just -- but --’ 

‘Look. Tony.’ Steve takes a step forward and gathers up both Tony’s hands in his and whatever Tony had been about to say vanishes. ‘Buck’s a meddler from way back--’

‘Hey, now…’ 

Steve ignores Bucky’s interjection. ‘--but he’s not lying.’ 

Tony stares at his hands, cradled gently in Steve’s, then at Bucky, whose grin has turned into something softer, the cocky confidence fading, then back at Steve’s face.

‘If you want us,’ Steve says, ‘then we want you.’


	2. Chapter 2

‘I…’ Tony licks his lips, doesn’t miss the flick of Steve’s eyes. ‘Yes? I mean, yes, of course, I -- I mean, have you _seen_ you?’ He jerks his head in Bucky’s direction to make sure he knows he’s included and Barnes laughs. ‘But also... yes to -- other -- I mean --’ He’s blushing; he _hates_ blushing almost as much as he hates talking about his feelings. ‘I mean I -- do -- do you mean --’

‘Tony.’ Steve leans forward and kisses him and Tony has an absolutely new favorite way for people to shut him up, he’s going to have to tell Pepper and probably Rhodey and possibly anyone he meets from now on.

There’s a few confusing minutes and the next thing Tony’s really aware of, he’s on Steve’s lap on the less battered of the two couches, someone has turned the lights down, and Bucky is kneeling next to them, leaning in to kiss first Steve and then him and Steve makes the _prettiest_ sound deep in his chest as Bucky’s mouth meets Tony’s and Tony would whimper but he doesn’t really have the spare air. 

‘Tony, can...please can I--’ Steve’s hands are hesitating on Tony’s zipper and that’s just ridiculous so Tony breaks away from Bucky’s mouth, groaning as Bucky takes this as his cue to string kisses along Tony’s jaw. He fumbles at his own zipper, he and Steve getting in each other’s way until, between the two of them, Steve making a noise that’s somewhere between arousal and laughter, Tony’s zipper comes down and then Steve’s and--

_‘Jesus_ fuck!’ Every nerve ending Tony has lights up and he arches so hard he hears his back pop as Bucky reaches forward and envelopes them both in one hand, his thumb stroking over the underside of Tony’s cock, his fingers slipping along Steve’s. ‘Oh, fuck… fuck, fuck, I… fuck…’

‘Yeah?’ Bucky glances up at him and Tony could _swear_ he _looks_ uncertain and what the fuck is _that_ so while Steve runs his fingers back into Bucky’s hair, Tony twists sideways, a little awkward, and takes Bucky’s mouth, licking and smoothing and sucking until all he can hear is Bucky’s ragged breathing and Steve’s half-gasped words. 

Tony can’t remember getting this hard this fast since he was fourteen and saw Amy Carter’s breasts in her swimsuit for the first time but Bucky’s fingers are warm and strong and just _slightly_ rough and when Tony has to break away for breath and accidentally glances down, it’s all he can do not to come on the spot because Bucky’s fingers are slick and wet and he wants to get his mouth on Steve’s cock like he hasn’t wanted anything in a long time and--

‘Tony -- please --’ Steve pushes himself forward off the couch and Bucky’s hand closes just a tiny bit tighter out of reflex and Tony damn near _screams_ as he comes, hard and shocking and striping Steve’s shirt practically up to the breastbone. Before he can become oversensitized, Steve’s biting at his mouth, hands digging at his shoulders, coming in a hot burst that definitely spells the end for this pair of boxers and Tony will happily sacrifice every pair he owns on the same altar. 

‘Jesus… _Jesus,_ you two…’ Bucky gasps and leans back far enough to yank his own zipper down, fumble his cock out, and strip himself, hard and rougher than Tony would ever touch something so gorgeous but it must work because he’s coming on their thighs in a matter of seconds. 

‘Holy shit….’ Tony sags forward, falling half-off Steve’s lap onto the couch. ‘Holy… shit.’ 

‘Direct approach pays off, Stevie,’ Bucky says from somewhere to Tony’s right. ‘What’d I tell you.’ 


End file.
